My closed eyes won’t let me see what’s right in front of me, but will navigate deep into the what-used-to-be.
My attempt to drop the baggage as I make my way out of this black hole
that seems to have no fin or starting point, has failed me every time,
bringing me back to that dreaded point, starting back at one.
Progress seems so slow; a step forward ends up being two steps backward.
Still, no finish line in sight on this, the longest stride.
And forget my cluttered mind — can find no solutions there.
The fog inside is thick and thoughts are all in knots,
words lose their real meaning, and reminiscence floods my eyes.
Selective, certainly, are the memories,
for if in their actual inclusive order they flowed
there’d be no doubt in my brain, no scar in my heart,
no tears in my eyes, only garbage down the drain
waving, good-bye.
The way I explain it to myself is one lie at a time:
first clear your vision and head to make trustworthy decisions, to walk on your two feet without stumbling one bit.
Like an algebra equation, you must find x to understand y.
Only problem is, clearing up the muddle in your head is no simple math quiz.
